


Surreal Existentialism

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Breaking and Entering, Existentialism, Gen, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: A series of shorts around the X-Men based on random prompts from Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember where these prompts came from specifically... I made a list of them awhile back from various blogs on Tumblr. So if you see one you recognize, please tell me so that I can give credit. Also, disregard the title of this work, because I really just couldn't think of one.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a grey area between heaven and hell where god sends people he doesn’t know how to deal with. Describe what you did to get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just wanted this one to be surreal. I'm also poking a little fun at the comics because we got "Death of Wolverine" and yet now he's back again, so... seriously, Marvel? Can't you stick with your decisions just once?

Oh, joy. He was here again.

This was one of the more annoying aspects of not being able to die; Logan got sent to… he didn’t want to call it purgatory, because despite constantly getting stuck here he didn’t believe in that crap, so he just thought of it as the gray area. Any time Sabertooth gutted him, or Magneto tried to rip his bones out through his skin, all those wars and several moments of the Weapon X program, he would end up here. He wondered sometimes if it was because he was too bad for heaven but not bad enough for hell, and other times he wondered if it was because his healing factor wouldn’t let him truly die. Then he’d end up making fun of himself for thinking even for a second that heaven or hell was real, and a minute later he’d start pounding beers.

Logan didn’t usually see other people while he was stuck in the gray area. On occasion, weirdly enough, he’d run into Magneto of all people. Unable to hurt each other or even attack at all, they’d sat down and talked once or twice, Logan pointing out how hypocritical Magneto was for assailing the X-Men when his goal was allegedly to save mutantkind, and Magneto asking Logan if he murdered so many people because he couldn’t just kill himself like he clearly wanted to.

The strangest encounter he remembered hadn’t really been an encounter at all - there was a window and he’d been able to see through it for a few seconds, what might be _Jean_ stuck on the other side even though he couldn’t be sure at the time. Later, he’d figured out that it had been the White Hot Room, but it made him question why he’d been able to see it at all.

Well, Logan was here again. Except he wasn’t sure why this time. Because this time, he was pretty sure that he was dead.

Of course, there was nobody around that he could ask. Just a TV screen, oddly enough, watching Laura take on his mantle for the X-Men and then a different version of himself show up from some hell-hole… and god damn, he didn’t age well. Kitty had phased his ruined body out of its metal tomb, leaving the statue in a quiet and undisclosed place and burying him somewhere else.

But really… why was he here? He’d been burned to death in a cocoon of adamantium after his healing factor had been turned off by a group of tiny pissed-off aliens. Thinking about his life - not just his recent end, but any part of it really - made the lives of the other X-Men look almost sane.

Well, he had a floating TV screen to watch in lieu of an explanation. And that was somehow the craziest thing of all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, you try to lock pick the door with that bobby pin, I’m going to try to climb in through the window using the fire escape. If all else fails, we’ll break down the door.”  
> “This seems like a lot just to break into your own apartment. I can’t believe you still think backup keys are a ‘waste of money.’”  
> (Bonus: The apartments are identical to one another and your character just moved in. They end up accidentally breaking into a home that isn’t their own.)
> 
> “I really think we should stop.”  
> “What, just because he’s threatening to kill us? No way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took two prompts for this one... kind of. I'm picturing the characters from the movies for this one. Also, I suck at comedy, but that didn't stop me from trying.

This was dumb. This was so incredibly, ridiculously dumb that Bobby couldn’t resist telling John loudly and repeatedly how incredibly, ridiculously dumb this was.

“Can’t you just ask the landlord for help?”

“Are you stupid? That guy hates my guts,” John argued. He shoved something at his friend: “Alright, you try to lock pick the door with that bobby pin, I’m going to try to climb in through the window using the fire escape. If all else fails, we’ll break down the door.”

“This seems like a lot just to break into your own apartment. I can’t believe you still think backup keys are a ‘waste of money,’” Bobby groaned even as he dutifully set to work on the lock.

He was starting to question movies like _Terminator 2,_ because this was way harder than it looked. How did people pick locks with hair accessories? Was it even possible or did somebody make it up just to dick around poor guys like him who wanted to help their friends break into their own apartments?

Bobby wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, but eventually he heard the sound of glass shattering from deep within and then a lot of panicky-sounding noises. The door was flung open and smacked right into his face, almost knocking him down the stairs.

“Okay, we gotta go,” John almost yelled, grabbing Bobby and dragging him away.

“What the-dude! You’re hurting me!”

“I don’t care! We gotta go!”

“Why?!” Bobby demanded, stumbling along and not really able to get free.

“That, uh, that wasn’t my apartment. I forgot, mine’s 24D. That one was 24B.”

“Are you _kidding me?!_ We just broke into someone else’s apartment?! Do you know what we’re gonna have to do to get out of this one?”

John finally stopped at that, but they were already outside the building. His face turned white.

“Please don’t say beer.”

“Yes, beer! Come on, you’ve already… broken and entered today, now go steal!”

An hour later, they had the beer. The recipient was less than thrilled to see them holding the box out in front of them.

“What the hell did you do now?” Logan snarled, snatching the 12-pack of Molson from them and immediately cracking open the first bottle.

“Um, we need some help with something,” Bobby started, rounding on John. “Wait, why am _I_ explaining this? This whole thing is your fault!”

Logan’s patience with them was limited on a good day, so John scrambled to explain and conveniently left out where the beer-bribe had actually come from.

“God dammit, why’s it always something with you two? Every other week you come to me with beer, and that’s the only good part of the day? Where do you even get it from, huh?”

“John stole it,” Bobby answered immediately.

Logan was growling, now, and they were both shrinking away.

“This is it. This is the last time I’m getting you out of something. Next time, I’m reporting your dumb asses to Cyclops.”

Given the circumstances, Bobby couldn’t help feeling a little vengefully joyous as his best friend was made to explain what had happened to the tenant, got smacked upside the head by Logan, and then was forced to apologize for it. Then Logan handed over the money for the window and they got to leave.

“Pyro can get more beer for you if it helps,” Bobby offered, trying not to grin. He was still kind of pissed about getting smacked in the face with a door.

“No. I don’t want more stolen beer,” Logan snapped. “I want you two to leave me the hell alone. So either straighten out or get stabbed.”

“Seriously?” John blurted out, then immediately seemed like he regretted it.

Logan just glared in a _see-if-I’m-kidding_ way, then left John with his new apartment (and still no way to get in). Bobby did end up taking pity on his friend, helping him break in from the fire escape without smashing the window this time.

“We’re sure this one is actually yours?”

“Yeah, that’s my pile of dirty underpants.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and sank into the couch; at least Logan wasn’t there anymore. “I really think we should stop.”

“Stop what?” John questioned, going to his crappy fridge and drinking milk out of the jug.

“Asking Logan for help when you do stupid things.”

“What, just because he’s threatening to kill us? No way.” Bobby glared and John sighed. “Okay, yeah, maybe we should. I’m pretty sure he really will stab us.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking away a loved one, you realize Death left his tablet behind. His appointment schedule for the next 200 years is saved on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's just a little blurb. I figured Scott would find this situation bizarre and that it didn't really need more explaining.

Scott couldn’t help flicking through it, even through his sadness. It was just so… strange. Almost as strange as the fact that he was an X-Man and could still find something that seemed strange. One detail wasn’t just unsettling, but also creepy even considering that Scott was _holding Death’s tablet and looking at Death’s schedule._ Additionally, Logan was in there several times, which was… something. (Not terribly unexpected, if he was honest.)

Carrying the thing down to Charles’ office, Scott questioned the fact that Death hadn’t bothered to put a number code to lock the tablet. That seemed rather careless for such a powerful being.

“Do you need something?” Charles asked when he got there, not unkindly.

“Um… Death left his tablet behind. Look at this.” Scott unlocked the screen and pointed to multiple points on the schedule. “Jean just died… why does she keep showing up in here?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You organize a meeting with your mind, body and soul to ask them what the hell they’re doing with your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one bugs me. I don't really like it, because it's so god damn obvious, but I'm putting it in anyway in case someone likes it.

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_ Logan wondered as the illusion set in. At least Charles had promised to keep from eavesdropping as much as he was able, but Logan wasn’t sure it could be helped in this case.

Mind, body and soul, huh? Looking at those three things, he really wasn’t impressed. Because his mind clearly didn’t care, his body was (rather disturbingly) an exact duplicate for how he’d looked as Weapon X, and his soul was… thirteen-year-old him who’d just stabbed his father to death. Yeah, he wasn’t impressed.

“Okay. What the hell are you doing to me?”

Mind-Logan just shrugged, still not caring. Body-Logan was confused. Soul-Logan cringed: “What did I do?”

_Oh, Christ, is that really me?_

“No wonder Cassandra Nova had a field day,” Logan groaned, deciding whether he should just go over and start smacking some sense into himself.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m taking a nap.” Mind-Logan just laid down on the spot and fell asleep.

Apparently looking pissed off and frustrated was all he needed to do to provoke a fear response, because now Soul-Logan was hiding behind Body-Logan and Body-Logan was snarling-with-claws. What the fuck _was_ this?

 _*It’s a progression,*_ Charles answered. _*Your mind has continued to change throughout the many decades you’ve been alive, which isn’t surprising. Your body is strong like it’s always been since you reached adulthood. But the person you are on the inside, those two factors notwithstanding, has not changed since you were a child. The thing you’re most afraid of, Logan, is yourself.*_

_Great. Explain to me their behavior now?_

_*I should think it’s self-evident.*_

_Yeah, well, it ain’t,_ Logan huffed. _Why do I do these things?_

_*You’re having something of an existential crisis. Personality-wise, you hide inside of what you think your body makes you out to be and generally feel defined by the ambitions of the people who’ve hurt you. And you’ve been around for so long that mentally, you simply feel too worn-down to continue at times.*_

The illusion vanished and he was back in a chair in the office, with Charles’ fingers to his temples. Logan abruptly stood up and shook himself like a wet dog as if it could shed the encounter he’d just had.

“So now what?” Logan grumped, folding his arms over his chest.

Charles smiled. “Nothing. Whether you achieve self-acceptance is beyond my control, Logan.”

“What, ain’t I fixable?”

“Only if you want to be.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please feel free to check out my original WIP, [Nucleus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027367).


End file.
